


All Maps Welcome

by shapechanger



Series: Late Nights and Early Mornings [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Friends to Lovers, Romance, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-15
Updated: 2016-06-15
Packaged: 2018-07-15 07:19:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7213129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shapechanger/pseuds/shapechanger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tonks has been snowed under at work for a couple of weeks since their 3am encounter in the Grimmauld kitchen. Remus goes to check on her at her flat in Brixton after talking to Sirius. Shared Chinese food, close contact, and the potential of another time.</p><p>(Intended as a continuation of sorts to Tea & Awareness at 3am, but can quite easily be read as stand-alone.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	All Maps Welcome

It had been well over a week since the moon. Remus knew it, but his body seemed unwilling to make the same acknowledgement, still aching faintly in the sting of wind that often tasted more like winter frost than the season it was meant to be. Nine days since he had changed, and fourteen precisely since he had last laid eyes on Tonks for more than a few hurried minutes at an Order meeting. She had missed the next one, had her absence clarified by Kingsley. An increase in workload at the Ministry, as yet unexplained as anything more than that, had quite suddenly left Grimmauld Place with much less colour, leaving the inhabitants wondering how to adjust. Sirius' surly demeanour at being confined had only increased in counterpoint to her absence; Tonks' visits had been a much welcome distraction, his cousin's lively temperament and outwardly rebellious nature well-matched to his own. Bereft of it, Sirius left to his own devices was more than occasionally disastrous, resulting in incidents of the kitchen filling with smoke to needle Kreacher and similar issues when he was feeling especially moody. Marauder plus maudlin was a bad combination, Remus reflected, sighing and pinching the bridge of his nose in consternation. _And I'm no better._

Up until recently, he hadn't been willing to admit to himself that he had found his own late nights somewhat lacking. He still spent more of them at Grimmauld Place than at his own home, wanting to be around for Sirius, to be available for the Order at a moment's notice. His thoughts rose up, acting against the very thing that he had been trying his utmost to keep in reasonable check. _You **miss** her, that's what's the matter with you._

When Remus allowed himself to consider the last time that he had seen her, a hurried smile and a brief update offered to the collective Order around the kitchen table, he hadn't missed the signs of strain. There had been the barest hint of dark circles under her eyes, the pigment of her skin obviously deliberately altered in order to conceal the worst of it. Her fingers had curled and uncurled restlessly in their position on the kitchen table, a sign that physical and mental activity both had been constant enough to become reflexive. She'd left after perhaps twenty minutes, no more than that. It had left Remus considering whether it would be overstepping to go and see her at her home, whether it was a push too far at the boundaries. As yet, he hadn't given in to that idea; he had no idea what sort of hours she was pulling, but was certain enough of the fact that she was likely to need all of the rest that she could get. So he had waited, but the concern hadn't lessened, only intensifying.

Faintly infuriated with himself, Remus re-focused on the selections of maps in front of him, a regular task. One of the better travelled amongst the Order out of necessity, he knew the terrain of England as a whole almost better than Mad-Eye did, was trusted to identify potential hotspots of Death Eater activity for that reason. More often than not, he was accurate, cross-referencing coordinates with known data on current whereabouts in order to produce his results. Now, however, there was only one place that his eyes kept drifting to on the map of London in particular: Brixton, where he knew Tonks' flat was located. He didn't want to invade her space, no, but at the same time, he did want to make sure that she was all right.

"Sickle for 'em, Moony," a voice said from behind him, breaking Remus from being lost in thought. He didn't turn around. "Trying to decide what I should crack on with next," he said. "Any interest in helping?"

Sirius snorted softly, ran a hand back through dark hair that settled around his face in long strands. "I'm no use with your method of witchcraft on those, Remus, and you know it. I might know the maps but I haven't got your knack for putting the pieces together." He moved forward, resting long fingers against the paper. "Though the way you were glaring at it just now, surprised the paper didn't just catch alight and shrivel in on itself."

Faintly abashed at the fact that his preoccupation had been noticed, Remus shook his head evasively in response to Sirius' knowing stare. It was a trick Sirius had often used in the past, the expression that said he already knew precisely which secret you were trying to hide, and the result was often that he discovered it regardless. _Not this time, Padfoot._ "I'm just not sure of what to expect next. I could use a fresh pair of eyes on these."

"Tonks, perhaps?" The shrewd air to Sirius' words unsettled Remus, though he took great care not to show it. "You'd do just as well if you'd take a minute and look," he replied evenly. "You know quite as well as I do that Tonks is-"

"Busy being tied up in Ministry bullshit, yeah, yeah," Sirius groused. "I know. You know. We all know. Doesn't mean I have to like it." There was a definite air of a sulk to the words, one far more reminiscent of the younger man that Sirius had been before Azkaban. "Damned dull of a night nowadays without her, once everyone else has gone home, besides us." Though his old friend had openly betrayed signs of a filthy mood for several evenings now, Remus was glad that at least he was putting things into words. It was far healthier than the alternatives. "You'll have Tonks and Harry both here eventually, Padfoot," Remus said, knowing that this was what was really at the heart of the problem: the fact that Sirius had eventually wanted to offer Harry a home, instead of a dark hiding place in the form of where he had grown up. While he knew that Sirius probably did honestly miss Tonks for her own sake, Harry was the primary reason that the other man needed distracting in the first place.

"Yeah, well." That statement hadn't mollified the dark-haired wizard, hands stuffed restlessly into the pockets of the jeans he wore. "If you see Tonks before I do, tell her that the house misses her pretty face, especially the umbrella stand."

Remus raised an eyebrow before he could stop himself. "She'd hit you a good one for that, you know."

The words drew an unrepentant grin out of Sirius, the first genuine one in many days. "I know, but at least if she's smacking me around the back of the head, she's around." Sauntering from the room, he left Remus to his thoughts. Unerringly, his eyes were drawn back to that point on the map. _Brixton_.

* * *

An exasperated huff of breath into the late evening air was the only sign of Remus' passing, otherwise completely soundless as his footsteps took to the pavement, exiting the alley that was one of the nearest apparition points to Tonks' flat. He'd chosen to wear a jacket rather than his cloak, and the threat of drizzle now made him regret the decision. He'd only been here once before, brought to the doorstep by Mad-Eye so that multiple people were aware of its location. Not a bad neighbourhood to be in for convenience purposes by any means, near to a multitude of Muggle transportation options if Tonks wanted to disappear from view for a bit outside of wizarding London. That she had been aware of this when she had selected it as a place to live was something that he thought highly likely. He glanced up at the sky, saw the foreboding clouds there darkening it further still and quickened his pace. If nothing else, he hopefully wouldn't get caught in the impending downpour. When he reached the front door of Tonks' building, an old townhouse that had been converted into flats, he pressed the buzzer next to her surname, written in a clear hand in blue ink. Wizard though he was, Remus could still feel the weight of the building's Muggle repelling charm, wrapped around it like a thick quilt of magic. He had taken good care not to be seen on his way here, had made certain that he couldn't be followed by doubling back on his route and changing direction a few times. When he extended his senses outward, there was nothing to suggest the presence of anyone besides him.

It was almost startling when her voice echoed over the intercom. "Hello?" The edge of weariness was undeniable, but the sound of her was like a balm to his nerves. _Safe._

"It's me, Tonks."

There was a long pause before she replied. "Stay there. I'll come down." The intercom clicked off, leaving only a faint humming noise in its wake. That Tonks hadn't let him in was hardly a surprise, spoke to the habits of an Auror.

When the door opened a few moments later, Remus was greeted by a jaw-length tumble of hair that was woven through with dark pink and a steady expression. "Cup of coffee?" she asked, voice casual, and it took him a second to realise that this was a test, her control question, because of course they never had drunk coffee together, except as a desperate measure to stay awake that one morning at Grimmauld. "I'd prefer tea, I think," he said carefully, meeting her eyes. "How are your ribs?" He saw her relax faintly then, because that was something that only he could have known, and he watched her slide her wand from where it had been hidden in her curled fingers back into its wrist sheath. Standing aside, Tonks didn't answer his question, just gestured for him to come through the door. He felt the wards snap back into place behind him once he was through, and it was only once the door was closed that Tonks' demeanour changed, becoming at once more open and more tired.

"Come on, we'd best get upstairs."

Remus didn't speak as he followed in her wake, climbing the three flights of stairs that it took to reach her flat. "You'll have to excuse the mess, I wasn't expecting company," she said, rapped her knuckles in a strange drumming sequence against the blue door bearing the copper number six before pulling a silver key from her pocket. It wasn't until she touched the key to the door after the curious knocking sequence that a keyhole appeared, clearly not a standard security charm that had come with the flat's leasing agreement. It was a point of interest that Remus noted, put away at the back of his mind to ask her about later. He didn't look around immediately once he followed her through the door, his focus on Tonks herself.

Still clad in Auror robes, her expression had softened slightly as she looked at him. "Hello, you." The words were quiet and held an oddly affectionate note. "What's brought you all the way out to my neck of the woods?" Concern sharpened her eyes, sudden and swift. "Is there something wrong at Grimmauld? The Order?"

 _Of all the moments to get tongue-tied, **now** is not one of them_ , he admonished himself. "No, I...actually, we wondered if you were all right, Sirius and I. He can't come, but I didn't see any reason not to check in. Kingsley did quite well at not telling anyone much of what you were doing, only said that the Ministry were running you ragged."

Tonks let out a faint sigh at that. "I'd have told you myself, but I've barely stopped since that mission the other week. Didn't even have time to write an owl between apparating from place to place." The distinct eye-roll that accompanied her words left Remus curious, lips parting to ask what she had been doing, only to receive the explanation regardless. "I've been dragged into support work for the team responsible for apprehending the notorious criminal, Sirius Black. Mostly that means dragging my arse down to the archives at the crack of dawn and looking up things that could lead to potential trails, as far as the Ministry's concerned for that particular case. Tedious, but ultimately harmless, if that happened to be what I was _actually_ doing." At this, she covered a yawn with the back of her left hand, exposed a fresh white line of scarring across her palm. "The strike team for catching Sirius is made up of senior aurors and a couple others, and not all of them are ours." That she meant the Order was clear, and Remus nodded, a prompt for her to continue.

"Kingsley's been nudging people to follow the false trails that he and I have been agreeing and setting up between us, but every so often, we have to make sure at least one or two get a glimpse of the _real_ Sirius Black, so that they think they're still hot on the scent and not completely wasting their time. These people are good, so the ruse has to be even better in order to keep their attention." At this, she gestured to herself mockingly. "I'm the next best thing to the real Sirius Black, so I've been pulling doubles doing that. Unfortunately, all of this is in addition to my normal duties, so I'm running a bit light on sleep and a lot light on essential things like food and interaction with people who are not my coworkers." At this, she offered a sheepish smile. "I didn't get much warning myself before all of this kicked off. Of course, since they're trying to track Sirius' use of magic and I'm with them at every sighting, they think nothing of it if they find a bit of _my_ magic on the scene after I run the usual diagnostic charms." She smirked, oddly charming. "In actual fact, I've been cleaning everything up with non-verbal charms and nudging what they do find. We're building to Sirius disappearing from the country altogether, which ought to keep them nicely puzzled for a while and take some of the heat off." 

The stream of words, which Remus suspected came as much from exhaustion as they did from relief to talk to someone and let them know the details of what was going on, came to a halt as they faded into another yawn. He felt safe then to ask his next question, the one that had been sincerely troubling him. "But you're all right, Tonks? Really?"

It didn't escape him when Tonks neatly dodged answering the question directly. "Not long got back from tonight's round, have to be up in the morning for another riveting go in the archives." A shrug accompanied the words, the routine of tiredness and repetition clearly something she'd become used to. "Don't suppose you eat Chinese food? I've got some on the way if you don't mind sharing. Found a place that isn't Muggle that has delivery people who can actually see the building; the chef's a squib whose real magic is with food if you ask me." She slid the robes off her shoulders and chucked them unceremoniously over the back of the nearest chair, leaving behind a torn pair of jeans and a faded black t-shirt that had decidedly seen better days. When she kicked her boots off as well, a different pair this time to usual, zips rather than laces ( _hope that she has those spelled to repel hexes_ ) and summarily collapsed into the corner of her sofa, Remus gathered that pressing the matter about whether she was all right or not might be unwelcome. Uncertainly, he stood in the spot where he had entered, not knowing how to answer her or what to do, until she looked up. "Are you going to come and sit down, or are you worried about something crawling out of the furniture and devouring you?"

"Surely that's a concern for Grimmauld and not here," he said softly, the smile coming to his lips unbidden, there anyway because of her, not a little down to the relief of knowing that she was in one piece. "Unless there's something you'd like to warn me of in advance?"

"Not a thing here that's harmful except for me," she deadpanned with another faint smirk. "Now seriously, come and sit down. The floor is lava and the sofa is the only safe ground."

More than halfway to laughing, Remus gave in and let a soft chuckle rumble low in his chest as he settled beside her. When their sides collided in a clumsy line, he expected her to move away, but she showed no sign of increasing the distance. "Sirius has been in quite a mood without you about of an evening," he said. "I think he was getting used to having you around." _So was I, too used to it, to you, I don't have that right._ "He said to tell you that the umbrella stand is pining for your pretty face, or uhm, something to that effect."

Tired though Tonks clearly was, there was no mistaking the sideways glance that she gave him, as though she'd heard his thoughts rather than his words. "Tell him that I'll be back just as soon as I get done playing decoy. Also tell him that he's welcome. And that he's genuinely a tosser, and I'm going to absolutely thrash him at chess the moment I step into that house by way of payback for that little wisecrack." She nudged him in the ribs then, gentle. "And what about you? Bet you've enjoyed the break, having no one to patch up at three in the morning."

Remus met her eyes then, knew that if there was going to be a moment for honesty, the self-deprecating note to her voice dictated that now was the best time for it. "I didn't necessarily need a break to begin with, but perhaps you did?" His mouth operated without his conscious consent, revealing too much in very few words, asking for reassurance even as he tried to reassure her. The flash of surprise in her expression, there and gone again in an instant, was unmistakable. The reason for it was evident in the next words that she spoke, voice lower, quieter. "No. No, I didn't need one."

Relief again, an emotion that he hadn't expected to associate with her presence, yet there it was. Usually, one of them would lighten a moment like this, lessen the weight of it with a smart rejoinder, but nothing appeared to be forthcoming. This was serious and Remus didn't know how to process it. Instead, he kept looking at her, watching her eyes, how they softened with their sincerity. "If I needed space, Remus, I'd tell you. Promise."

Mercifully, there was the sound of the buzzer, saving him from replying. Tonks rose to her feet, said, "I'll be back in a minute, I'm going to go downstairs and fetch that, it'll be the food. I don't let anyone into the building without seeing them first." And then she was gone, door closing behind her, leaving Remus to realise that not only was he trusted to be alone in her flat (seemingly not a common occurrence), he was also around five minutes away from having dinner with her, just the two of them, if he accepted her earlier offer. It took him a moment to process that, a flash of unexpected nerves twisting in his stomach and widening his eyes momentarily. _It's just Tonks. It's all right._

Looking for something to calm himself with, Remus took in the details of the room in which he sat. It wasn't a big room, but the traces of Tonks' personality were scattered around the space, easily identified. The walls were a dark navy blue, midnight summer sky blue; a colour he found oddly soothing, thought perhaps that she might feel the same. There was a stack of Charms and Defence journals on the worn wooden coffee table, some of them with post-it notes and scraps of parchment sticking out from them with scribbled handwriting barely visible, where she had obviously made notes on what to try or bookmarked articles to read later, an abandoned mug residing next to it bearing the bold logo of the Weird Sisters. Over the small fireplace, there was a collection of six haphazardly placed shelves, all of which seemed to lean into one another in order to support the numerous books that they contained. There was a Hufflepuff tie pinned to the corner of one of the shelves with a tack, bringing a smile to Remus' lips. Beneath them on the mantelpiece, there was a scattered assortment of framed photographs, some of them moving, some not. He didn't get up to examine them, it wouldn't do for her to come back to him looking around at her belongings. On the far wall, there were framed vinyls of various bands, Muggle and wizard alike, many that he recognised; copies that she had obtained for display purposes. In the corner sat a small record player, clearly well-loved, and beneath it a cabinet of records that looked to be full to bursting.

After his perusal, Remus settled back into himself, was back to his usual composure by the time he heard her muffled curse as she tripped on the doormat, the sound of her bumping the door open with her hip. Standing, he went and relieved her of one of two bags of food, warm to the touch, and followed her to another door which he opened for her. A small, brightly decorated kitchen greeted them, walls a jaunty teal colour as he followed her in, set the second bag on the counter as she deposited the first beside it.

"There's a few things in there. I was feeling a bit sorry for myself, so I got extra," Tonks said, beginning to rummage through the bags. "There's no way I could eat all of this, though. I forgot how big the portions are." This statement was supported by the fact that when she extracted a carton of what smelled like some kind of chicken dish, she had to use both hands to support it. "Do you want a plate, or are you fine sharing from the container with chopsticks?" Then she paused, caught herself mid-assumption and reddened. "You _are_ staying for food, right? I'm not just..."

Faced with her expression, what else could Remus possibly say, given that he actively wanted to stay? "If you don't mind the company," he replied hesitantly, adding immediately afterwards, "And if you let me pay for my share?" only to have her lift an eyebrow at him. "Does it seem as though I mind the company? Also, we can do this again another time and we'll wrangle over who pays then, if you like, but this one is on me." The smile which followed the words would have been persuasive enough by itself, even without the pleasant smell of the food and the warmth of her flat offered as an alternative to the weather outside. It had started raining again, he could see it out of the small kitchen windows. "Then I'll stay." It took him a moment to register that she'd said that they could do this _another time_ , blinked with the shock of it. _Perhaps she only meant at Grimmauld, with Sirius?_ But even as Remus had the thought, he knew that wasn't what she had meant at all.

He watched her consider the array of food, reach down and draw out a tray on which she deposited three cartons, placed a couple of small plates precariously in the bottom left corner. "Would you like a hand?" he asked.

"I've got it, if you could just bring the chopsticks and a couple of forks? Drawer's over there," Tonks nodded over at the opposite side of the kitchen before disappearing out of the door. He approached the drawer, easily drew out the forks and followed in her wake. Soon enough, they were comfortably settled, the tray set on the coffee table once the stack of journals and the mug had been moved out of the way. Remus watched in faint surprise as Tonks deftly navigated the food, using the chopsticks without any apparent difficulty to snitch meat and vegetables from the cartons and put them onto the plates. Black pepper chicken and rice were soon a comfortable weight in his stomach; the sauce must have had chili pepper of some kind in it, warmth all through him. Either way it was welcome, more than he usually managed to eat of an evening, often distracted and making a sandwich or eating some leftovers in the small hours. Tonks too looked as though she was enjoying this repast; a glance at her face found her cheekbones ever so slightly sharper than he remembered from a week or two prior, suggesting that eating hadn't much been on the list for her either. Between the food and quiet threads of conversation that weaved in and out of the next couple of hours, they hardly noticed the time passing. She was warm against his side, still connected with a light brush of shoulder, hip and knee, and Remus, tired as he was, had no desire to protest. Indeed, he did precisely the opposite. "Thank you for dinner," he said quietly.

"Thank you for caring enough to look in." Tonks' words were equally soft, almost fading out for a moment before she lifted a hand and passed it across her eyes, a gesture of clear weariness. Thinking that he had overstayed his welcome, Remus tensed slightly. She obviously felt it, shifted to sit forward and look at him, but at the same time, he heard her neck and shoulders crack ominously, saw her wince. "Owww…"

"Your weapon sling?" The item that Remus referred to was already discarded, hanging up on a hook attached to a closed door, evidently her bedroom. From experience, he knew that it was sometimes heavy to carry, dependent on what additional items she was obliged to carry as back-up. As deadly accurate she was with her wand, the weapon sling offered alternatives, contained knives amongst other things, which he'd learned that she was, in fact, very good at handling.

"Probably," Tonks concurred, reached up and touched the back of her neck, shifting in clear discomfort. "Also probably from falling asleep in chairs and other odd places." This admission made Remus frown slightly, and without really thinking it through he beckoned her with a gesture of his fingers to turn around. She turned with only a brief, quizzical look, relaxed when his hands settled on her shoulders, began to work out the knots that he could feel beneath his fingers. As her tension began to recede, he became more consciously aware that she was leaning back into his touch, that he could catch the scent of her perfume and a hint of whatever shampoo she was currently using. Raspberries, he surmised, the scent registering the same shade of pink as the tendrils in her hair. When his fingers reached the nape of Tonks' neck, suddenly met skin, he drew his hands back. There was a fine line to be walked here, and to touch her bare skin without invitation crossed it, something invasive that didn't match his honest intention to ease her discomfort. Her breathing had slowed, evidence of a sense of safety that he'd rarely seen her demonstrate so openly. He wasn't sure when they'd stumbled so close to intimacy, but they had and now he had to step back from it, even if what he really wanted was to continue, to hold her, rest his face into her hair-

 _Merlin, I was taking advantage, I don't have the right to touch her like that, she doesn't…_ Anxiety knotted in Remus' stomach, not for the first time in the past few months, concern that he had taken this a step too far, that he had betrayed these thoughts in this brief instance of closeness. _She's a friend. Don't make this into something it isn't._ "Better?" The question was faintly hoarse, but that could easily be put down to tiredness rather than the sudden rush of something far too much like fear, fear that she'd yank away once she realised how close he still was. He saw that her eyes were half-closed, confirming that she'd very nearly fallen asleep sitting up, before she turned her head sideways in profile to look at him. The dim light ran down her cheekbones, made gentle shadows of her eyelashes, and there was something so painfully lovely about her in that fleeting instant that it made him feel even worse. _My hands can't hold something, someone like this, they can't keep this._ "Much better, thank you. I barely ache now." Her voice was thick with sleepiness, and Remus moved back instinctively before she could pull away first. "You should sleep, Tonks, it's…" He checked the watch at his wrist. _I've been here for too long._ "It's really late. You must be exhausted, pulling the stunts that you have been."

Tonks turned where she sat, then, turned to face him with another rub of her eyes and cleared her throat. "It's late for you, too. I guess you have to get back to Grimmauld?" That she was uncertain of the shift in his demeanour was clear in her voice, only confirmed when she continued, "Sorry for being such a bad host, I'm normally a bit more awake if I happen to have a guest."

"You weren't at all, I enjoyed dinner, and it was more than I deserved after imposing on you for so long when you were already worn out. I only meant to look in and make sure that you were all right, not take up your entire evening." _You're on a roll now, Lupin. Well done._

Tonks didn't trouble to hide her frown, then. "It's not imposing if someone wants you there, Remus." The words held something like a warning, one that brooked no argument. "You're always welcome here, if you choose to come, regardless of when. All right?" It wasn't really a question, and she punctuated it by leaning in and hugging him. After a moment, he returned it, tightened arms around her and shut his eyes where she couldn't see, hidden as his face was from her view at such an angle. "All right," he replied, voice soft. "I really had better go and let you sleep, though. The Ministry isn't going to be forgiving in the morning for you otherwise." That concern, at least, didn't stem wholly from his sudden need to put some space between himself and the temptation of simple closeness to another person, closeness to her.

They released each other at the same time, and Remus stood slowly, reluctant now to leave this small haven disguised as a Brixton flat. The rain outside had slowed, enough that he wouldn't be too damp by the time that he got to the apparition point. "I'll be back at Grimmauld before you and Sirius know it, and you'll wish then that you'd taken the peace and quiet whilst it was available." There was an impish quality to Tonks' words, and when he looked at her, she was smiling in a way that lit her face, despite the dark circles that had begun to emerge far more visibly beneath her eyes, her control over her morphing obviously having slipped just a little. "Thanks for stopping by. We should do this again, it was nice."

The second time. That was the second time Tonks had said such a thing to him. Could it be possible that she meant it? He took a moment to answer, a smile of his own curling his lips unbidden as she walked him to the front door. "Only if I buy dinner next time." _I really shouldn't flirt with her. I know better._

"I'll hold you to that," she said, leaning one hip against the doorframe as he walked towards the stairs. He glanced back and she was still watching him as though he presented a conundrum she wasn't sure of how to solve. "Goodnight, Remus." For a moment, Remus wanted to ask her how she planned to do it, how she planned to figure him out where so few others took the trouble, knew that the words would be nonsensical at best if he said them aloud. Instead, he settled for smiling at her again, simply said, "Goodnight, Tonks. Sleep well. Soon," before he finally took his leave, hearing her front door close. The damp outside seeped into his bones, and it really was late at night. He'd endure merciless teasing from Sirius in the morning about being a dirty stop-out, as he always did if a mission or anything similar happened to keep him out late. It would only escalate further still once Sirius figured out that he'd been at Tonks' flat for the best part of the late evening.

Remus found that he cared a lot less than he might have about that, recalling the scent of raspberry and the warmth of Tonks, the absolute proof solidified in his mind that everything that drew him to her was far more than skin-deep, nothing so fleeting as simple physical attraction. Even if he couldn't express it, for her sake, because she wasn't for him, he could feel it, and that would have to be enough.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, if you managed to get this far. The title of this piece was inspired by a song that's been on my playlist for Remus & Tonks for a very long time. The song is called The Girl Who Falls Down Stairs by Tom McRae; consider it my soundtrack of sorts to this particular piece, if you're interested in that sort of thing.


End file.
